Morning came slowly.
Not with sunlight, but with the sound of people moving boots on gravel, radios crackling, stretchers being carried past. The sky stayed gray, heavy, like it hadn't decided what kind of day it wanted to be.
Rafi watched rescue workers search through the ruins below. Every now and then, someone was pulled out alive. When that happened, people clapped softly, like loud joy might break something fragile.
Lila stood near the edge of the hill again.
She always stood there now.
Marco walked up beside her, holding two cups of water. He handed one to her. She didn't drink it.
"You haven't slept," he said.
"I don't need to," Lila replied. "Not the same way anymore."
That scared him more than the sea monsters ever had.
Across the city, the ocean looked calm too calm. No waves crashed. The water didn't sparkle. It lay flat, like a closed eye.
Rafi joined them. "They're saying the attacks stopped everywhere."
Lila nodded. "Because the message was global."
"People are calling you a hero," Marco said quietly.
Lila's jaw tightened. "I didn't save the world. I delayed the ending."
Sirens wailed again not danger this time, but order. Governments moved fast when fear was fresh. Emergency laws were announced. Fishing fleets were pulled back. Ships were grounded. Factories near coasts shut down.
For once, humans listened.
But Lila could feel it.
The doubt.
"This won't last," she murmured.
Marco frowned. "You don't know that."
"I do," she said. "The sea shows me things."
Rafi looked up at her. "Like what?"
She hesitated, then spoke. "I see futures. Some bright. Some drowned."
Rafi's stomach dropped. "Do we survive?"
"Yes," Lila said. "But not all of us. Not in every future."
A helicopter passed overhead, slower now, careful of the water below. No one cheered this time.
Later that day, officials arrived.
Men and women in clean clothes, untouched by salt or blood. They spoke carefully, smiling for cameras, thanking survivors for their bravery.
One of them pulled Lila aside.
"We'd like your cooperation," he said smoothly. "Your experience… your connection… it could help us control this situation."
Lila met his eyes. "You don't control the ocean."
He laughed nervously. "Of course not. But with the right technology"
"The moment you try," Lila interrupted, "it will return. And next time, it won't warn you."
His smile faded.
That night, the sea spoke louder inside her.
Lila walked alone to the shoreline, guards watching from a distance but not stopping her. Rafi followed quietly, hiding behind a rock.
She knelt and placed her hand on the wet sand.
The water pulled toward her touch.
"I hear you," she whispered.
Images flooded her mind.
Plastic-choked beaches.
Oil-black waves.
Dead zones spreading like sickness.
But also
Hands cleaning shores.
Nets pulled away.
Children learning to protect what they loved.
Tears ran down her face.
"I'll help them," she promised. "But you must give them time."
The water receded gently.
Rafi stepped forward. "You talked to it, didn't you?"
She smiled faintly. "Yes."
"Did it answer?"
"Yes," she said. "It said balance is heavy. And someone must carry it."
Rafi frowned. "You?"
"Maybe," Lila said. "Or many people. That part isn't decided."
The next morning, news spread fast.
Across the world, strange things were happening.
Fish returned to dead reefs.
Polluted rivers began clearing.
Storms weakened before land.
The ocean wasn't attacking.
It was… correcting.
Marco read the reports in silence. "It's giving us proof," he said. "Showing us what happens when we stop hurting it."
Lila looked toward the sea.
"No," she said softly. "It's showing us what we're capable of losing."
Far below the surface, the Sea King moved again slow, thoughtful.
Not as an enemy.
Not as a savior.
But as a judge.
And the trial of humanity had only just begun.